


Edelweiss

by Eavenne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst and Feels, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Pain, Present Tense, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eavenne/pseuds/Eavenne
Summary: When Roderich appears in her life again, everything starts going wrong; little by little, the flowers growing in her lungs close around her throat.And if nothing is done, Adelheid will die.





	Edelweiss

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo! This is a Hanahaki fic. Hanahaki is a fictional medical condition where flowers grow in the sufferer's lungs (and possibly other organs) over months and years, slowly killing them if there's no intervention. One risks infection by falling in unrequited love with another person. There are two solutions: either the object of the sufferer's affections reciprocates their feelings and convinces them of this, or the sufferer goes for surgery to remove the flowers. However, they'll lose their feelings for the other person in the process.
> 
> Anyway, this is one of the best fics I've ever written. Enjoy!
> 
> Female Switzerland = Adelheid (Heidi)  
> Austria = Roderich  
> Liechtenstein = Erika  
> Hungary = Erzsébet

She’d thought it would take a miracle for them to be friends again.

In some ways, it does require one. When Adelheid glances to her left in a Business lecture and sees Roderich gazing intently back, she wonders why he’s here. Stuffy lecture theatres were never his element – no, he’s a fixture of the concert hall – and she knows he’s a dreamer. Someday he’ll make the world pause for a moment and incline its head to listen – that’s what Adelheid remembers him saying, back when they were starry-eyed with youthful ambition and innocent passion. 

_He’s changed_ , she thinks.

But he’s still Roderich, and so he digs his heels in with that childish stubbornness Adelheid remembers so well. This time, he’s not going to let her go. 

This time, they’re not going to lose their friendship.

Days fly by. It’s irresponsible of Adelheid and she knows it, but Roderich is persistent and she’s too tired to object. So she lets him worm his way back into her heart, allows him to pick at her defences with attentive words and shrewd observations. 

Adelheid thinks she likes this side of him. Now Roderich’s a little wiser, a little worldlier. He’s finally grown up, and she sees that there’s no need for her to protect and look out for him any more.

But it’s hard not to miss the old days.

\---

Two months have gone by, and now their rebirthed friendship stares her in the face whenever she checks her phone. It’s almost as if they never had their falling out in the first place.

Roderich was never really the prodigal sort, but now he’s going out of his way to treat her to semi-expensive lattes. Whenever Adelheid tries to take a sip, she’s confronted with the foamy white designs floating aimlessly and cutely on the surface of her coffee. It’s difficult to drink with a clear conscience. 

Once, she asks him why he’s going out of his way to be so nice to her, and that’s when all the apologies and reflections and pleas for forgiveness stream from Roderich’s mouth. Endlessly, he rambles on – when words fail to illuminate his meaning he adds more words, which pile up into sentences and paragraphs and repeated “ _I’m sorry”_ s and “ _Please forgive me”_ s. 

Adelheid doesn’t want to make it too easy. Back then their big argument had meant a lot to her, and to wave Roderich’s excuses and explanations away and say “It’s fine” is too simple for her tastes.

But that’s exactly what she does.

\---

He stops buying her drinks from then on.

Though Roderich wants to, Adelheid won’t let him. It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate it – while she’ll never admit it, she does find the gesture rather sweet – but rather that Adelheid wants to stand on an equal footing with Roderich, and letting him treat her to things defeats that purpose.

It’s the least she can do.

Sometimes she wonders if he’s trying to make up for his past mistakes, for not understanding how messed up she was after her parents’ death, and taking their friendship for granted. Sometimes she trudges to her waitressing job and puts on her uniform and wonders if he knows how desperately she’s struggling to be less financially dependent, so that she can spend her guardian’s mailed allowance solely on Erika, and Erika’s ballet school boarding fees.

If nothing else Adelheid is proud, and that’s why she won’t let Roderich help her.

But sometimes when she lies awake in bed and wishes her sister were still home, she imagines curling up in Roderich’s arms and resting her heavy head on his shoulder and telling him how she’s trying to do the best she can. “ _I’m tired,_ ” she’ll whisper. “ _Can I stay here, for just a little while?_ ”

Then Adelheid will fall asleep, and when she wakes Roderich is no longer there.

\---

She doesn’t understand why it took him so long to introduce her to his girlfriend.

Adelheid wants to hate him for it. _It’s unfair_ , she thinks. If she’d met Roderich’s girlfriend sooner, maybe Adelheid wouldn’t need to react by nodding stiffly and ignoring the angry pounding of her heart.

And Erzsébet is beautiful. Her eyes are emeralds, glittering and twinkling as she tosses her lovely head with its tumbling cloud of caramel hair, and her voice is a siren’s song, calling and coaxing and compelling the ear to listen to its sweet music. 

When Adelheid strips to shower and stands in front of the mirror, she sees that she’s everything Erzsébet isn’t. For the first time, she looks at her body with its flat lines and toned muscle and thinks that perhaps if she had Erzsébet’s generous curves and superior height, Roderich might give her a second glance.

Then Adelheid blushes and scolds herself. If Erika were here, she’d tell her sister that beauty is on the inside, that it doesn’t matter how she looks, that she should love her own body and be proud of her fit figure. 

But before she can feed herself more happy thoughts, something itches in her throat and she starts coughing. It’s difficult to satisfy the discomfort, and Adelheid falls into a prolonged coughing fit before it eases and she realises there’s something light sitting in the hand she used to cover her mouth.

Her eyes widen.

\---

There’s something very wrong with her.

For a while she tries to pass it off as a strange coincidence, but as the days go by Adelheid realises that this isn’t an isolated incident. Perhaps she’s good at ignoring illnesses that she can’t afford to see the doctor for, but this is different. 

Now she’s coughing up edelweiss and she doesn’t know why or how.

\---

If she could pay to seek help for whatever sickness she’s currently suffering from, Adelheid would take the appropriate steps. If she knew her sister was down with something as mysterious as what she has, Adelheid would send her to the doctor immediately and look up everything she could on the subject.

But because she doesn’t want to ask for the money and she’s too busy to care about her wellbeing, Adelheid continues to lie to herself. It’s just a strange cough, she thinks, and coughs go away – so she doesn’t try to find out what’s wrong. As long as she doesn’t really know, she won’t be overly bothered by it. 

She’s started avoiding Roderich. It’s a silly theory, but Adelheid suspects the edelweiss coughing is related to him in some way – after all, it’s their favourite flower, and she seems more prone to coughing fits when he’s around.

And even if she weren’t coughing up petals, Adelheid deludes herself into believing that, by avoiding him, she can put an end to the vicious cycle of highs and lows that now characterise her every interaction with him.

It doesn’t work.

\---

She can’t run in the mornings anymore.

It’s been her habit for at least fifteen years. Adelheid has no words for how exhilarating it is to feel the crisp chilly wind slice at her face, nor can she explain that effortless painless near-flight she achieves when she hits the zone.

But ever since the illness came, she’s been forced to run less and less until she can barely get going before her head spins, she can’t breathe, and she’s forced to slow to a walk as she struggles to make her body listen to her.

So Adelheid gives up in frustration and returns to shower and get on with her day, but it just isn’t the same. 

\---

It’s gotten worse. 

Now it hurts so much that she thinks her throat will tear itself to shreds and her chest will explode and her heart will stop beating. It hurts so much that when Roderich looks at her in frightened concern and reaches out to rub her back, Adelheid wants to abandon her pride and confess everything to him so that he can hold her and wipe the tears that yearn to fall and make everything alright again.

But when he asks her what’s wrong, Adelheid hides the flowers and says she’s fine.

\---

Now she’s lost the energy to do much of anything.

Fatigue clings ghost-like to her skin and stalks her like a shadow. Her morning exercise is just a dream at this point – running is impossible when stumbling to college and back forms the new extent of Adelheid’s physical abilities.

It’s obvious now. There’s no way that Adelheid can tell Roderich that there’s nothing wrong after a sudden wave of dizziness brings her to her knees, the coughing intensifies to desperate retching and she starts throwing up edelweiss.

He helps her to her feet, and she dimly wonders how he managed it. Supporting her weight on his narrow shoulders, Roderich staggers off with Adelheid in tow and it takes her some time to get over her nausea and surprise to ask him where he’s taking her.

“Hospital,” he grunts, adjusting his grip on her arm.

It takes fifteen minutes to talk him out of it. And even so Roderich flatly refuses to let Adelheid leave without at least seeing a doctor, which is why they end up waiting at a clinic for an entire hour before it’s their turn. 

“Take care of yourself,” Roderich says when they’re sitting there with nothing to do. “Please, Heidi,” he says insistently, placing a warm hand on her arm that sends her into another pained coughing fit.

When they see the doctor, he takes one look at Adelheid and the bloody flowers in her hand and orders Roderich out of the room. A few quick questions seem to confirm his worst suspicions; a practiced calm veils his words as he explains that there are flowers growing in her lungs that will kill her if nothing is done.

And though he reassures her that there are two ways to save her life, Adelheid knows the easy route is impossible and the hard one is costly.

When she leaves the room and Roderich is waved in so that the doctor can explain he’s the cause of the problem, Adelheid quickly settles the bill and flees the scene. 

There’s no way that she can face him now.

\---

She ignores his calls and tries to sleep through the knocks on the door.

Adelheid knows she’s being ridiculous. All she has to do is phone her guardian, explain the situation and take a bus to the hospital. Well, it probably isn’t that simple, but she’s dying and they aren’t allowed to turn her away.

But she doesn’t do that. 

Instead she curls up in bed, squeezes her eyes shut, and doesn’t move. Somehow she doesn’t really care about anything anymore, and so she lets her body wither as she stares blankly into the darkness of her closed eyelids, thinking nothing and feeling nothing and doing nothing.

_If she keeps this up, she will probably die._

\---

She opens her eyes to the blurry sight of two people kneeling over her.

One of them is small and the other is tall. Adelheid thinks the smaller figure is crying. Suddenly that person dives into her shoulder and sobs and tells her that they were so worried, and she realises that it’s her sister.

Then the tiredness that was hovering at the edge of her mind sweeps in once more, and Adelheid plunges back into unconsciousness.

\---

When she wakes up, the world is too bright.

Everything’s white – the ceiling, the walls, and the curtains that sit still and silent in the absence of a breeze. 

And before Adelheid can make a sound, someone grabs her hand and cries her name. 

“Heidi!”

\---

She’s been saved.


End file.
